Road Trip
Written 2004
Summary: Half the fun of a mission is getting back. With Carl's new unhealthy obsession of gambling, nasty debt collectors and vengeful strangers, there's more than enough fun to drive a man insane. If Transylvania hasn't done it already, that is.
Carl closed his Bible and tucked it back into his robes. He waited a full minute before attempting any form of conversation. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you ready to go now?"
"Maybe," Van Helsing replied, a sad smile on his face as he turned around.
Carl cleared his throat. "Her family is in Heaven, bless their souls."
"I know," The hunter replied. "Back to Rome then."
The friar quietly followed in mounting up on a horse. He cantered after Van Helsing, winding through jagged scenery to the nearest port. After a few hours, the threatening clouds overhead finally made their presence known by a rumble of disagreement. Carl looked worryingly up at the clouds.
"We should find shelter," he suggested nervously.
Van Helsing grunted.
Carl raised his voice slightly, "I'm serious. There is a storm coming."
"We ride on," The hunter responded simply.
Taking Aim
Written 2004?
Summary: A missing scene from In The Night, whereupon Van Helsing teaches Carl how to fire a pistol.
Carl dropped the weapon as soon as Van Helsing pressed it into his hand. The pistol clattered onto the floor and lay still, though Carl expected it to jump up and rear its ugly head. Except it didn’t.
“Well, what did you think?” he demanded crossly. “I’ve never carried a weapon.”
A glare from his companion compelled Carl to stoop and pick up the weapon. It was quiet in his hands, very unlikely to strike, considering it to be a stationary subject. Carl knew how it worked from his extensive reading and from picking apart a few. But to actually use one…the thought made the pistol white hot in his grip.
This time Van Helsing caught it swiftly and shoved it back into Carl’s hands. Carl glanced down at it and shook it a little. “Doesn’t seem poisonous.”
“Where did you get that idea?” snapped Van Helsing, obviously reaching the end of his tether.
Carl levelled the gun before his eye and squinted. He increased tension in his finger, imagining the click that should come next. Instead, a rough force pushed the pistol out of his grip. Van Helsing was looking murderous, his eyes tinged with gold. “Never aim a pistol at something you don’t intend to hit. You must always treat it as loaded.”
Carl blinked.